


You Told Your Daughter She Was Ordinary

by DoubleL27



Series: A Hazy Shade of Stevie [1]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Gen, If You Squint - Freeform, Implied/Referenced Verbal Abuse, Introspection, Mutual Pining, Very Minor, but tagging, stevie budd deserves nice things
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-18 16:24:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21780385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoubleL27/pseuds/DoubleL27
Summary: At the end of Cabaret, Stevie continues to face the idea that she might be more than someone just watching the world pass her by.
Series: A Hazy Shade of Stevie [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569649
Comments: 26
Kudos: 45
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	You Told Your Daughter She Was Ordinary

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to my beta [Redacted] for going over this with a fine toothed comb to make sure that nothing was too awkward and that everything read smoothly.
> 
> Title comes from the first track of the album III by the Lumineers, Donna.

The applause swamped Stevie as she took her bow. She looked out over the audience. The stage lights were nearly blinding but she could make out David, Ted and Mr. Rose on their feet, clapping like their lives depended on it. There were other faces in the crowd she could make out - all the Jazzagals had a section, including Gwen who was out there cheering for Bob. Everything began to blur like she was looking at an Impressionist painting. If anyone asked, she would say that it was the lights that had filled her eyes with tears.

The rest of the cast came up to stand beside her, fanning out in one long row across the stage. Patrick took her hand on one side and Twyla on the other. Her hands were lifted above her head and she joined everyone else in a bow as the applause continued to ripple through the building. Blinking, Stevie worked on banishing the tears back and trying to put everything back into their neat compartments where she kept them.

They bowed three more times before the curtain closed. 

For the first time in years, _maybe forever_ , Stevie felt powerful. 

The first arms she found herself in when she walked off stage were those of Mrs. Rose. 

“Oh, Stevie!” Mrs. Rose exclaimed, making her name sound like ‘Stay-vay’, enveloping her in a hug. “My protege, my little ingenue! How stunning you are!”

“Thanks, Mrs. Rose.” Stevie tucked a piece of Magdalena behind her ear. “I think I did ok.”

“Stevie! You were more than just ordinary. You got copious curtain calls. Not as multitudinous as I, for my first production of Cabaret, but as we are only in Elmdale you were very impressive. You took to direction like a poisson swimming in a honeyed lagoon.”

There was nothing to say to that. Emotions that she kept in a very careful box deep in her mind were bubbling out and overflowing. 

“I am extraordinarily proud of you, my darling.”

Words Stevie had given up on hearing years ago washed over her. She hugged Mrs. Rose again and inhaled the familiar scent of perfume and light booze. Mrs. Rose rubbed her back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. Then she moved out of the hug and around Stevie, calling out, “Patrick! The man of the hour!”

Stevie moved into the wings and off to the dressing rooms, amidst the excited chatter of the rest of the cast, still wrapped in the warmth from the end of the show. 

By the time she came out, David was waiting outside the dressing rooms, leaning casually against the wall. David still had the bag of towels with him, carefully held in his hand and the tears she’d been fighting all day pricked at the corner of her eyes. Again, she found herself embraced by a Rose, and David smirked at her when he pulled away. 

“This was way less embarrassing than even the practices lead me to believe it was going to be.”

“Thanks, David.”

“I mean, you would think the costumes would make it worse,” David continued, his face contemplative, hands illustrating his thinking. “But they actually improved the performance.”

“What he means to say,” Patrick added, coming out of the men’s dressing room in regular clothes, eyes still rimmed with black, “Is that you were stunning as Sally Bowles and I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Stevie let herself be wrapped in a hug from Patrick. Somewhere in the course of the last two years he had gone from being a person connected to her through David to a friend in his own right. She gave his back an affectionate thump and earned one in return. “Same goes.”

“Umm, as the best friend and the—“ David got lost as his golden rings winked in the lights. He glanced to Patrick before grinning and managing to say, “ _boyfriend,_ what do I get? You know, for putting up with these shenanigans.”

Stevie just stared at him. “Nothing.”

Patrick’s face transformed into his pouty frown. “I’m pretty sure you were supposed to get us flowers.”

“It’s ok,” Stevie laughed as David raised his eyebrows at Patrick. “He has until Sunday to find some. Although, you would think growing up with TVs Moira Rose he would know that.”

David’s mouth was open to retort when Mr. Rose came up to them. “Stevie, sweetheart! What a performance!”

“Thank you, Mr. Rose.”

“Oh my god, Stevie!” Alexis exclaimed, coming up and throwing her arms around Stevie’s neck and almost taking her off of her feet. 

Alexis pulled back all smiles and friendly pokes. “You can almost see why Mom cast you as the lead instead of me, almost. You were, like, not as terrible as you were worried about.”

“It was a great show,” Ted added, beaming. “You should be really proud. I’m sorry I won’t see the rest of them.”

Alexis drifted back to Ted’s side, draping herself over him. “Well, you’ll be in the Galapagos, babe, but I am sure we can get Ray to record them for you if you want.”

Suddenly, all the people and all the praise felt like too much. “I think I forgot something in the dressing room. I’ll be right back.”

Stevie ignored the looks from David and Patrick as she pushed through the crowd. They would question her afterward but by then Stevie would have carefully put everything back into their places. The walls she kept between herself and the world had come down and Stevie needed to put some bricks back up.

Back in the dressing room it was quiet. Only a few stragglers remained inside. Stevie needed the silence now, after the rush of the stage, the roar of the crowd and the continuous congratulations. 

Her reflection caught her eye in the mirror. With her dark hair piled on her head and stage makeup on, she didn’t look quite like herself. Stevie kept hearing Mrs. Rose tell her that she could do anything. Mrs. Rose, who honestly dressed like a fantasy ripped from her mind at age eleven, thought that she, _Stevie Budd,_ was cool.

The other voice crept in. 

_ You’ll never amount to much.  _

_ You’re just a plain girl from a small town, who has a need for you? _

_ Well, if you were actually pretty, it might be different. _

Jocelyn came around the corner and the movement snapped her back to the present. Stevie found herself enveloped in another hug from behind, one that smelled heavily of cheap perfume and baby. This time, her body bristled, not ready for the contact. Jocelyn's head tilted into her own, her eyes closed, completely unaware of Stevie's discomfort.

“Oh Stevie, you were amazing. I am so glad Moira completely ignored the audition process and chose you." Firm hands ran up and down her arms and Stevie tried not to shudder. "She’s so smart about these things.”

Stevie turned to look up at Jocelyn. “Thank you?”

Jocelyn beamed at her, clearly missing Stevie’s tone. Jocelyn patted her absently. “Oh, you’re welcome, sweetheart. I should really go find Moira. I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

Jocelyn bustled off and Stevie turned back to the mirror. For so long, Stevie Budd was just another townie; an ordinary, small-town girl who wasn’t bigger than Schitt’s Creek. Today felt different. 

Stevie thought she might be able to be something after all. 

“Hey, you were great.”

Stevie would know that soft voice anywhere. Stevie wanted to cover her face with her hair, but she was still wearing Magdalena. Instead she stayed facing the mirror, watching the willowy figure behind her. “Thanks, Twyla.”

“It reminded me of when we were young, you know, when we would have sleepovers, before...” Their eyes caught in the mirror, and Stevie felt as if she were frozen in place. They hadn’t talked about the incident, ever. At some point, they had maneuvered to a place where they were two people who knew each other a little, enough to make small talk at the cafe and get hammered at parties.

Twyla swallowed hard and found a smile. “If you ever want to join the the Jazzagals, I am pretty sure you’re a shoe-in.”

“Maybe.”

Stevie looked down at the counter and Twyla in the mirror got closer, and her hand reached out, but then all of a sudden she swapped directions and slid out of the dressing room like she had never been there. There was a slightly Twyla-shaped space where she should have been and, not for the first time, Stevie felt the loss. 

Stevie wasn’t sure what she was going to do with herself after this turn as Sally Bowles, but something had shifted. She looked in the mirror, and while that little voice that sounded horrifyingly like her mother was still there, it was quieter than it had ever been before. 

Maybe she was more than just the girl behind the desk. 


End file.
